Luke Gets Jumped (Part Two)
A/N: Had a lot of requests for part two, so here it is! Please like and reblog, and let me know what you think!
Luke laid on the damp ground for a while, going in and out of consciousness. He must have blacked out at some point, because when he came to, the clouded sun was at a higher point in the sky, and the rain had intensified to the point where, even though the day was pretty warm, Luke was soaked and chilled to the bone. He thought about how far away the studio at John’s house was, and mustered up every bit of strength he had to push himself up on his forearms.
“Shit!” He cursed, pain lacing through his system. He cringed and whimpered as he tried his best to pick himself up out of the muddy puddle he had been thrown in. Using the wall next to him, he got himself standing on two feet, and slowly limped his way down the alley, stumbling multiple times and pausing to lean against the wall. He didn’t even look at himself, he knew he was dirty and disgusting, and he felt a strange mix of worthlessness and self-pity twist in his gut. He threw up, wiped his mouth, and kept walking using the brick wall for aid, the rain continuously splattering against his mud-encrusted skin. He felt like crying, and honestly was surprised he didn’t yet. When the tears didn’t come, a voice in the back of his mind told him he was in shock, and he silently agreed, feeling pathetic and numb.
The walk to the house seemed so much longer now than it had that morning. As Luke stumbled towards the gates to John’s home, he typed in the one thing his brain seemed to focus on - the security passcode. As the gates opened and he moved towards the door, he swallowed the thick feeling in his throat, pushing the unlocked door open and letting it slam shut behind him. Luke made his way towards the bathroom, not wanting to go into the office section of John’s house that was further down the hall where the recording studio and den was.
“Luke! Where the fuck were you?” Michael yelled from the room, him and Alex laughing at something Jack had said, whom had shown up early to hang out.
“I know it’s a tough job to get drinks but why did it take you 3 hours?” Alex asked, yelling so Luke could hear from the other room.
“Be honest, were you getting laid?” Jack asked, causing them all to laugh harder.
“You couldn’t wait until after I received my caramel latte?” John joked, all of them finding the whole thing completely hilarious. Luke shuffled down the hall, not responding to anything they said. He was vaguely aware of the mud he was tracking on the pristine floors, and the smudged prints on the walls, but not enough to care. He slipped inside the bathroom and turned the fan on. He felt like he was hearing them through shitty speakers, as if the volume of his whole life had turned down.
“Are you really taking a shit?!” Jack yelled, but Luke barely heard the shout from the bathroom. His eyes were transfixed on his body in the mirror, which was covered in mud, blood, and obvious abuse. His shirt and jeans were torn in multiple places, his skin and hair were completely covered in muddy water that glistened like a swamp, and his face was sunken, his eyes hollow and lifeless, burning with unshed tears. His cheeks were red, but not with the cute blush the fans gushed over. No, they were red from the smacks. Red and contrasting with the rest of his muddy appearance. As the raucous laughter from the other room mixed with the gang’s laughter in Luke’s mind, panic finally swamped him, and he struggled to choke down harsh sobs as he stared at his broken reflection.
In the den, Michael laughed along, but after Luke didn’t answer, a strange feeling crept into his stomach. ‘Why didn’t he answer?’ Michael thought, knowing Luke’s feelings would never be hurt by their senseless teasing. As Jack went on about how Luke probably ditched them for Mexican food and was most likely destroying John’s bathroom, Michael laughed along, but got up.
“Bro, I’m gonna kill him if he didn’t bring back food!” Michael added. “I’m gonna check and then whoop his ass.”
Michael’s declaration was met with hollering and he grinned as he moved down the hall, turning the corner and heading for the bathroom door.
“Oh shit!” Michael exclaimed, slipping on the wet floor and then seeing all the muddy water tracked through the house. 'Jesus, did Luke turn into an animal?’ he thought, staring at the mess.
“Luke!” He yelled, banging on the door. Luke was messy, but not this messy. When he was met with no response, he knocked roughly again. “What the hell, Luke?”
When no sound other than the bathroom fan answered Michael, he rolled his eyes and turned around. “Fucking diva,” he muttered, beginning to walk down the hall when he heard a barely perceptible sound leak through the door. It sounded almost like a sob, but Luke had been okay earlier…
“Luke, what’s going on?” Michael worried suddenly. It had been awhile since Luke cried, and although he was the most likely to miss home and such, they were all pretty happy, and he had been fine that morning. And Michael heard a full-out sob, which he probably hadn’t heard from Luke since the younger boy was sixteen. “Luke, open the door.”
“Michael, you guys coming or what?” John shouted from the other room.
“Just a minute!” Michael yelled back, before pounding on the bathroom door. “Luke,” he threatened. “If you don’t open up right now I swear to god-”
Suddenly the door was opening, and Michael fell through, not expecting Luke to give in. As soon as Michael was pulled into the bathroom, the door slammed shut behind him, and he looked up at his best friend.
But what he saw made bile rise into his throat.
His brain first processed the mud. It was all over Luke’s soaked body, smeared into his hair, and staining his clothes. Next, he noticed the blood mingling with the mud, and the slices and tears in Luke’s clothing, giving way to dirty skin that already looked red and aggravated. When Michael’s eyes landed on Luke’s face, he felt his gut wrench. Luke’s blue eyes were wide and full of panic, standing out against his filthy, already bruising face. Tears were tumbling down his face rapidly, leaving tracks on his cheeks and his chest was heaving as if he couldn’t breathe, another sob escaping his throat.
“Holy shit-” Michael began to exclaim, but Luke smacked a bloody hand over his mouth, silencing him.
“No!” Luke heaved, his eyes frantically searching Michael’s. “Be-be quiet,” he stuttered, obviously trying and failing to control his breathing. “They-they c-can’t know.”
“Luke-,” Luke flinched away from Michael’s agressive tone, and Michael softened it. “Luke, what happened?” When Luke closed his eyes and kept quiet, Michael tried again. “I’ve gotta get John, and call an ambulance!”
“No!” Luke yelled, shaking his head viciously. “No, no, no. No h-hospitals and-” Luke cut off as his chest spasmed and he gasped for breath, more tears making their way down his face. “D-don’t get John. Don’t make a scene.”
“Luke, I don’t know what to do,” Michael felt helpless as his friend leaned against the wall, crying as his eyes squeezed shut. Michael could deal with someone throwing up from a hangover, could deal with a few bumps and cuts, or a breakup, but he could not even begin to know how to handle this. Should he wash the mud off of Luke? Clean his cuts first? Calm him down? He had no idea.
“John’s a dad, Luke. He’ll know how to help.”
“No! Please Michael, please. I just want to go home.” Luke sobbed.
Whether Luke meant the nice hotel they were staying at or Australia, Michael didn’t know, and didn’t find out because a voice called from the other side of the door.
“Are you two having sex in there and forget to invite me?” Jack yelled from the other side. Michael looked at Luke for a long moment before saying 'fuck it’ and opening the door.
“John!” He called down the hall, as Luke cried harder and Jack stood dumbfounded. “John!”
“What-” John started, rushing down the hall at Michael’s panicked tone and the full out sobs leaving Luke’s mouth. He cut off as he took in Luke’s appearance, his jaw dropping and his paces stopping.
“Holy shit,” Alex whispered from behind John, the three of them taking in Luke’s fragile appearance.
“I hate you,” Luke cried, looking into Michael’s eyes. Michael knew he would never mean it, but it still stung a bit. “I h-hate you.”
“What happened Luke?” John asked, cautiously stepping into the large bathroom where the youngest boy cowered. Luke just shook his head, so John waited a moment before trying again. “Luke, we need to know.”
“A gang,” Luke struggled to get out, his crying slowing down. “They pulled me down an alley and took my money and my phone.”
“And then beat you up?” Michael asked. Luke nodded, not making eye contact with any of them, still trying to stay a distance away.
“Alright, well first we’re gonna get you cleaned up.” John said, and Michael admired the maturity that suddenly came over the man. Jack and Alex went down the hall, giving them privacy.
“I won’t go to the hospital,” Luke told him, still not looking up.
“That’s alright,” John glanced at Michael. “We’ll help get you upstairs so you can shower. Do you think you can shower? My bathroom has a seat built into it.”
Luke nodded and allowed John to lead him out of the bathroom and to the stairs. With Michael supporting most of his weight, they made it to the second floor, and into the master bathroom. Sitting him on the toilet, Michael peeled away Luke’s already wrecked t-shirt, throwing it in a corner and trying his best to ignore the moans of pain that slipped past Luke’s lips everytime he moved. Seconds later, Ashton and Calum showed up in the doorway, both looking shocked and scared.
“Luke…” Luke’s head snapped up at Calum’s voice, eyes locking with his best friend as Ashton and Calum walked past John and knelt beside Luke. “Jack and Alex filled us in. You look like shit,” Calum spoke playfully, but his brown eyes showed how concerned he was for his best friend, wishing he could take the pain.
Luke chuckled slightly, cutting off with a grunt of pain. “Just like how you normally do then.”
“You gonna be alright?” Ashton asked, moving closer to Luke and placing his hand his shoulder. The boy flinched and Ashton pulled away, going to talk to John and looking worried. He felt like it was almost his fault, that he should have been protecting Luke. It was a freak accident, but he knew his best friend would need time to heal. Still, he went out to the hall and immediately called Luke’s family, filling them in on what had happened to their youngest. When Ashton went back into the bathroom, the shower was running and Luke was down to his boxers, leaning heavily against the sink.
“You sure you’re okay in here alone?” Michael asked Luke, who shot him a glare. Luke already felt pathetic and needy, and their hovering was making it worse.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Luke murmured, each movement of his creating some new pain that spread throughout his being. He recognized he wasn’t hurt as bad as it seemed, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt at all.
“Someone should call Y/N,” Ashton muttered, trying to keep his voice down, but Luke’s head snapped up at the mention.
“No!” He responded quickly, wincing in pain as he shifted.
“Luke, she’s your girlfriend. She should be here too.” Calum said softly, but Luke just shook his head over and over, and when he lifted it, tears were once again streaming down his face.
“She can’t see me like this,” He sobbed, and his three mates rushed to try to soothe him. “I’m a mess. I’m disgusting. I’m so fucking pathetic.”
“No! Luke, she really loves you. She cares about you and would want to be here,” Ashton said, not knowing how to comfort Luke without hurting him. But it didn’t matter, because Luke’s legs all of the sudden seemed to give out, and he would have fallen if Michael and Calum didn’t react quickly and catch him. Luke just clung to them, and Ashton joined in on the hug, all of them trying to comfort the youngest.
“You’ll be okay, Luke,” Calum whispered, tears in his own eyes as he held tight to his brothers, the people who meant the world to him.
After several minutes of just sitting on the floor and gently holding Luke, letting him cry all his fear and pain out, Luke pushed against his friends’ chests, trying to get up. Once they helped him stand again, he took several deep breaths before looking up, eyes blood shot and one bruising.
He swallowed harshly before speaking. “Call Y/N. I need her.”
A/N: So I had mixed responses about adding Y/N vs keeping it to only the band, so I kind of did both! Let me know if you want a part three with Y/N in it!